children of greatness
by Tokyo's Child
Summary: It happened again. He saw her from across a room, just a glimpse, and then he looked away. It couldn't be her. She was gone. Forever. But still, she looked so like her, but grown up. The same eyes, the same smile, the same rare color of hair. But no. It wasn't her. She was gone, as he had to constantly remind himself. ZukoXoc I own nothing (starts awkwardly but gets better)
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this for no other reason then that I HATE Mai. she's such a bitch... Zuko deserves someone awesome. like this chick. Yoshiko. actually, it means child of greatness. pretty cool, huh?

here's her back story summed up in crappy manner in the form of a prologue. enjoy.

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><p>A little girl stood, very still, with her back against a weeping willow. Its long boughs dipped into a tranquil coy pound, which was encased in a circle of rectangular stones. Her deep red locks, nearly black, hung down her her back, ending in a V between her shoulder blades. The girl, who could be no more then 11, giggled uncontrollably into her hand. Her her red kimono was trimmed with gold, and the fine silk indicated that she came from a wealthy family. She stood, pressed to the tree, apparently waiting for something, or someone, as became aware, as a young boy, most likely around twelve, walked out from a row of high hedges.<p>

"Yoshiko, I know you're here!" He said, his voice harsh, but with an undertone of softness.

grinning impishly, the girl, Yoshiko, as she was now identified, picked up a peach that had rolled from a nearby tree. Tossing it lightly from one hand to the other, she tossed it into the air, and in one swift movement pulled out a sword she had hidden in her kimono, slicing it in half, so that the pit was exposed, she hit it with the hilt of the sword, and in one more movement, sheathed it again. It hit him squarely on the back of his head, making him turn around with a scowl on his face.

Upon meeting her gaze, he eyed the sword she had in her hand.

"Your mother will get mad if he finds out you've been doing it again..." he warned her.

"She doesn't need to know, and my father will defend me, he always does." She said, rolling her eyes. She did not miss the faint glimmer of hurt cross his face, before he composed himself. She knew it wasn't fair of her to bring up the subject of fathers, when his home life was such a mess. Walking over to the older boy, she gave him a quick, one armed, hug, as she was still holding the sword.

"I'm sorry, that was mean of me. Will you for give me?" She pleaded, giving him a look that simply bled false innocence.

"Fine, but don't look at me like that... it's to creepy..."

"Hehehe... you really are weird, you know that Zuko, but I'm glad we're friends." She returned.

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><p>1 year later (directly after Zuko's banishment)<p>

"Mother, what they're saying, it can't be true, can it?" She cried, disparately searching the eyes of the woman she had just run to. She stared up at the woman, clutching the sleave of her red kimono with both of her hands. Her eyes widened with anguish as she caught a glance at her mothers face, which she had kept carefully hidden to avoid meeting her daughters gaze. Tear tracks where visible on her face, and she brought one hand up the her mouth to cover it, while wrapping the other around her daughter's waist.

"Oh, Yoshiko, I'm so sorry..." she trailed off, not knowing what else to say, as she had ha nothing to do with it the apology was unnecessary.

"N-no... mommy, please, it c-can't be..."

"My darling, I'm so sorry, Zuko... he, he won't be able to play with you any more."

"I'm not a little kid!" The girl screamed, wrenching herself out of her mother's grasp, "I know what banishment means, I can't understand why! What was the Fire lord thinking, challenging his son, he's only 13... why? why him?" She said, before giving way to her tears, and, running out of the room, headed toward the garden, where she and the young prince had spent so many hours playing innocently, since they where babies.

The royal family rarely associated with any below their status, but, as her father was one of the greatest Samurai captains in the Fire Nation, it was highly acceptable. Highly acceptable, yes, but apparently they where not worthy of even saying goodbye to a lifelong friend.

No. Not quite worth it.

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><p>2 months later<p>

Fire, so much fire, it sprung up from the ground and engulfed the walls. Yoshiko, dressed in a simple white kimono, ran desperately through what had once been her home. When she entered the hallway to her parents room, she saw them run quickly to meet her.

"What are they doing? Why are they burning our home?" She yelled before anything else.

Bowing her head, she mother brought her gaze to meet her daughters. "Because they don't think like we do. Because our way is different. Yoshiko, I know you are older now, but it's to complicated to explain now..."

"Does it have anything to do with why they took Zuko away?"

"Yes, in a sense, but we don't have time to talk about this. Now, listen closely, they'll find us soon:

When we tell you to, head out through the passageway, you know the one, in our dresser?"

"Yes..."

"Good, then you must go right to your aunts house. from there, she'll send you to a man named master Piandao. you met him when you where little, do you remember? Show him this, tell him your name. He'll take care of you." She said her voice cracking as she pressed something into her daughters hand. Her father, pulled something from his side and handed it to her, draping it over her shoulder. His sword. The burning house, he was giving it to her. Her, a family one. it had been in her family for generations, and she had never needed to be told how precious it was to him. But, here, in there burning house, he had entrusted his most prized possession to an 11 and a half year old girl, who only knew tricks. That was when it struck her that they wouldn't follow her. She would live the rest of her life without them. Her parents pulled her into a tight hug, tears in their eyes, before letting her go. Footsteps, quick and loud, resounded through the hallway, and long shadows approached the corner.

"Go, quickly, darling, remember, always remember, who you are..." she heard her mother say.

She ran into her parents room, but not before she heard the sickening sound of metal on flesh, a woman's scream, and the laughter of fire nation soldiers. Shoving her way through fine silks, she paused only to grab a random kimono, and hastily wipe away her tears. She emerged from the long underground passageway onto a quiet side stree. She looked down at her hand, visible by the light of the moon and stars, and stared at the object that had been forced into her palm. A single, ornate bead, on a fine chain of silver, in the shape of a lotus.

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><p>well, in case you didn't catch on there, her father was a member of the white lotus, and they where discovered and killed. Piandao was sokka's sword master thingy, so, as the daughter of a samurai (as you shall discover in later chapters) it is the perfect place to continue her training. duh.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, this is me FINALLY updating. the first chapter got SO MUCH awesome feedback, thanks to all of you who reviewed/favorited/story alerted this!

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Air bender or any of the characters besides Yoshiko. Shame. If I did Mai would be LONG GONE... Ahem.

Anyhow, here we are, CHAPTER 2!

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><p>Her muscles where burning, her lungs where screaming, her mind was spinning, and she loved it. Savored it. Relished the fire coming from her legs as she raced along the soft, mossy, dirt carpet of the woods. Her feet where bare, and shivers of delight washed over her as her feet sunk into the damn ground, only to be removed a second later. She attempted to breath deeply, but found that she needed oxygen too much to control the amount she took in. The green leafy canopy of the trees shielded her from the full effects of the sun's rays. She continued running and soon found herself in a clearing. She slowed her pace to a walk and walked around the clearing slowly. Walking to the middle of the clearing she spread her arms out and leaned forward, making her back nearly flat, she stretched slowly, so as to avoid muscle cramps, and flopped down on the grass. Her chest rose and fell as she took big gulps of air, and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears.<p>

Looking up, she saw a tangle of branches and leaves, and through them patches of bright blue sky. Basking in the warmth and tranquility of the early morning, she lay there for several minutes, mind going off to never land, until she deemed it time to go. She pushed herself off of the ground, back damp with dew that had collected on the grass overnight, and stretched lazily. Taking one last look around the clearing, as if to preserve it in her mind forever. She wasn't, but she did enjoy the scenery. Anyone looking wouldn't have known that she wasn't making sure no one was around.

Slowly, ever slowly, she put one foot in front of the other, gradually her pace increased, and she was running at the same break neck pace she had used to get to the clearing in the first place. Finally breaking through the trees, she smiled at the sight of an ornate mansion, it's red roof glistening in the sun. Squinting hey eyes, she held her hand up to shield her face from the sun. As she did this, she heard a sound she rarely ever heard here, the large wooden doors swinging open.

Frowning slightly, she ran around the house to the large stone garden, to which where attached a wide set of stone steps. Climbing them, she placed her ear an inch from the rice paper wall. Through it she could hear the muffled voices of her guardian and... someone else. someone she didn't recognize. her face contorted with frustration and exasperation, and she moved quickly to the door that she knew connected to a small room beside the large entrance room the voices where coming from. carefully sliding the door open, she slid her sandals off and slid her arm through the ankle straps. Tip toeing into the room, she made her way swiftly across the room, to where the other door was. Pushing it open a fraction of an inch, she heard what must have been heard of a conversation.

"Very well, I will consider taking you on as my pupil," she her guardian's deep voice sound out.

"Thank you, Master Piandou, you won't regret it," judging by the slightly higher tone of the speakers voice, she judged that he, because the voice was decidedly male, could be no older then she was.

"Mister Li will take you to get a change of cloths," Piandou ground out. "The you will return here to begin your training."

Once she heard the foot steps completely disappear, she opened the door completely. Stepping out into the sunlit room, she turned her head to focus a quizzical gaze on her guardian.

"You said you'd never take on another pupil... You've turned down everyone who's come."

"Yoshiko, You're going to ask me something, so just ask."

"Why now?"

"Because he's different," he replied. "Not seeking fame or fortune or vengeance, just trying to be of use as best he can..."

"Vengeance... is that... really that wrong?" She barely said it, it wasn't even a whisper, and it sounded like it was directed more to herself than him.

Sighing, he brought his head up to face her. "You came to me when you where 12."

"Yes..."

"And when you where 12, what was your desire?"

"To make my father proud..."

"And, truthfully, hasn't vengeance always been a second priority, hasn't it?"

"Well, yes." What came next rendered her speechless.

"Stop trying to find reasons to torture yourself. They don't blame you. The only reason you can't move on is because you won't let yourself. You should probably go get changed, do you want to help train this new disciple?" Not waiting for her to answer, her turned back to his calligraphy, silently dismissing her.

She stood there for a few minutes, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. She didn't really have anything to say though. Or rather, too many things, but none that she thought she would ever say aloud. Turning sharply on her heel, she made her way through the corridors of the great house, before she found the door to her spacious room. Pushing the door open, she led herself to her closet, and pulled out a black silk robe, much like her guardian's, but feminine, fitted, and slightly more decorated: a golden dragon wound it's self around the hem of the knee length robe. her's had slits up either side, but modestly was maintained by the existence of tightly fitted shorts that stretched the length of her thigh. Pulling off her other cloths, she stopped herself from pulling on the other garments. She left her hand drift to the left side of her torso, by her hip, to run her figures lightly over the burn marks from her earlier life. An ugly, twisting line, running from her hipbone to just below her belly button, marred her pale skin delicately. Closing her eyes and sighing, she grimaced and opened them again, moving her hand to pick up the black garment.

~V~

She was ready: dressed neatly, in possession of a simple, well made sword, well rested, and energized. But she still did not step out into the open sunlit courtyard. _You're being ridiculous, _she told herself, _He's just a boy, just a boy, and he can't be more than a year older than me, if anything, he looks younger. So then why? Why can't I move. Why can't I just walk out there and face him. He's nothing special, it's not like it's... him._ But it had been years, three, now?, since she had so much as spoken to anyone other than the members of Piandou's household. And there was no one near her age there. Besides, even if it was, it was unlikely that he would recognize her. They'd known each other since infancy, but time and fate had changed them both, and she doubted she resembled her past self much if, at all, anymore. True, the dark red hair was the same, it was her trade mark, in a sense, and had been for her entire life, and her bright eyes had not changed their golden hue, but she knew, without anyone telling her, that she was different. She looked older then 15, too worn, too experienced. In this time of war and cruelty, that was to be expected, but it had shaped her future and herself in ways it had not done for others, the scar of her leg was one example. One forgets how to function, over time, and after nearly three years of seclusion, she had all but forgotten how to act her age.

_Breath._

_Breath._

_Listen._

_Breath._

She let the sounds of nature calm her. Let the soft coils of wind wind their way up her legs, around her torso, around her arms to the tips of her figures, and finally up her neck, slowly cooling the heat that had risen from her brief moment of panic. Stepping out of the shadows, she made her way to the tiled patio, trying to keep her back straight, without the arrogance she had observed in so many others. The boy was taller than she expected, possibly an inch or two above her, but she was sure he must be younger, at least by a year. She observed him quietly, before stopping a few feet away from him, she cleared her throat softly, and he turned to face her. Before she had only his profile to study, but now that she was face to face with him she noticed several things she had not taken into full account before. For one, his skin was much darker than it had first appeared, and his hair was pulled back in a way she had never seen first hand before. He was not from the colonies, she concluded. He was most decidedly from a Water Tribe. while she did not know the exact reason behind his lie, she could imagine why it had been necessary. A member of the water tribe would not be welcomed in the fire nation, and given the current state of her country, it was practically a suicidal decision on his part.

He looked shocked, she surmised, and she didn't quite blame him.

"Hello, I am Master Piandou's ward. It's nice to meet you," She said steadily.

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><p>there you go, my darlings. I'm sorry it took me so long to update . I hope you enjoyed it, and please review and tell me what you think!<p> 


	3. Interlude: Linger

A/N: This is the story of what's going on in the Fire Nation, from his return home to several days before the invasion. I realize that Yoshiko still hasn't gotten anywhere close to that part f the story, but as this contains little to no spoilers for her story, I feel comfortable posting this ow. I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I've had rehearsals of a a ballet I'm in and it's taken away most of my free time. The ballet is in two weeks so hopefully I'll have more time to work on it. This also serves as a way to make my next chapter (told by Yoshiko) to have a less awkward time gap. I realize that everything in this involves Yoshiko, but adding everything else that happens is rather difficult and exhausting. Please: Review!

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><p>Children of Greatness: Interlude <em>Linger<em>

He was home. He should feel as if he were home. But yet, he didn't. He felt a hollow, empty, cold sensation eating away at him. Something was wrong, may things were wrong. He had migrated slowly over to the memorial for fallen soldiers. He walk up and down the rows of grave stones, looking at the names he recognized. He stopped when he reached a familiar one: "Mandou, Lang." Yoshiko's grandfather, on her mothers side.

And then he put it together. Yes, something was missing. How he had not noticed before he had no idea. She was gone. She hadn't been mentioned. She hadn't visited him. Could she truly be so disappointed in him that she had avoided him to such an extent? She would have tried to contact him, wouldn't she? She had always trusted in him, always gone to him for help, always listened to his thoughts. And, if she was disappointed in him, for what? For leaving? For 'killing' someone? For not trying to contact her? For going against his father? There could be so many reasons, but none that would warrant completely ignoring his return. Had she missed him? Or forgotten, moved on with her life. She must have grown up not, they all had, he could tell. But she had been friends with Azula and Mei, not good friend, but good enough to see them at least once a week, given how close they were in social ranking.  
>He had stopped in front of the grave, and stood, staring at it. He heard foot steps approaching him from behind, and did not have to turn to see that it was his sister.<p>

"What are you doing here? There's nothing but dead people," she said offhandedly. He did not reply, and she then shifted her gaze from him to the heads stone he was looking at. "Thinking about her, are you?"

"How has she been? Have you see her lately?" He asked softly. She snorted, but gave no reply. It was then that he noticed something. The grave was bare. She had made sure to always have it decorated in some way, bringing flowers somethings, or offerings, when the weather was good she would burn incense. It was a family tradition, not something they would stop doing. Why, then, was the grass around it dying. Why has it that moss was beginning to grow at the base. They had always been careful to keep it clean. Perhaps her absence was more than he had originally thought. Azula began to walk away, and he followed he quickly,

"Azula," He began, trying to keep his voice in check. Stepping in front of her, he faced her directly, "Where is she?" She then looked him in the eye, incredulity displayed boldly across her face.

"She's dead. I thought you would have heard about it, died a few months after you left," she said frankly. Her arrogant tone made it difficult for him to grasp what she had just said, it sounded as though she were talking about the weather, not the death of a girl she had grown up with. It took him several moments to collect his thoughts before he spoke again.

"What?" His voice was low, soft, and very threatening.

"You heard me, she's dead. As it turns out her parents were conspiring against us. That was the real reason of course, what the rest of the world heard a a tragic house fire. Everyone in the Fire Nation knew about it within a few days, I'm surprised you got kept in the dark," the way she said 'us' made his blood boil. not 'us' he though, just father. Without warning, he had pinned her against the wall with his arm at her thought for several seconds, before

"It was only her parents, she shouldn't have been touched, she can't be dead. " he murmured.

"Don't believe me? Go see for your self," He heard the challenge in her voice. Knew this was something she wanted him to do, and knew it was probably a very, very bad idea. He grit his teeth and drew his arm back roughly. He exited the court yard and stormed through the hallways until he reached his room.  
>He stayed there for the remainder of the day, and the next few following, only venturing out at meal times. At least, until he was asked to attend a war council meeting.<p>

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><p>Zuko met the new captain of the Sun Guard at that meeting. The elite swordsman. The men who couldn't bend but could strike you down in seconds. Men who were once lead by Yoshiko's father. He should have been there, not this man. Captain Cai, his replacement, was obviously chosen by his father. His ruthlessness, his brashness, his sheer aura bled arrogance and brute strength. It seemed all wrong to him. He wore the same emblem as Captain Lang had, wore the same armor, but he could not be more different. While Captain Lang had secreted an aura of intelligence and quiet strength, Cai's was quiet the opposite.<p>

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><p>Again and again he found himself connecting things to Yoshiko and her family, and it did nothing to ease the pain he felt. She was dead. And he had never said goodbye. And Now everywhere he looked he saw her. In the colors on the walls, in the faces of girls he past on the street, every time he saw a sword he thought of her. He made the mistake once of bringing her up in front of Mei.<p>

They had gone to the beach on a small vacation, and attended a party being hosted by some generals son. They hadn't told anyone who they were, but her was rather surprised that no one had suspected. yet again, he thought he saw her, a girl standing across the room, batting her eyes at an attractive boy his age, everything about her seemed familiar, her wide eyes, the way her lips turned upward in a pleasant, teasing, toothless smile. But the thing that stood out the most was her hair. He had never seen anyone besides Yoshiko with hair like that. Hair that looked nearly black as night but shone varying shades of a deep red, plumb like color when it hit the light at certain angles. And he could have sworn she looked at him, just for a second, she glanced his way, and he saw her eyes widen a fraction of an inch, before quickly turning back to her partner, who was blushing like a school boy. His eyes lingered on her for several seconds, she was very beautiful, just like she had been.

He shoved that thought aside though. She was dead. He saw her home. It was gone. She would have gone back, left something for her parents if she was alive. She was that kind of person. The person that would respect the people she loved.  
>Her grandfathers grave was bare as well, although she would have had difficulty sneaking into the Palace. Of course, he reasoned, she would be on the run if she escaped. By now he wasn't sure if he was trying to talk himself in or out of the possibility of her survival. So he did what he tried to always do, and just ignore it.<p>

But he couldn't simply leave it be.

He and Mei had been sitting on the beach the next night, when he finally broached the subject.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, not seeming to genuinely care about the answer. He debated for several seconds whether to tell her or not, but decided to go for the truth, she had a knack for telling if he was lying or not.

"Yoshiko," he said simply. He felt her stiffen beside him, and knew that he had probably upset her. Thinking about another girl in the presence of your girlfriend was frowned upon.

"Why?" she asked, with the same lazy tone.

"I... Don't know. But I keep thinking about it. Her dying," he replied. He seemed to forget who he was speaking to, and only continued to voice his thoughts, in a half dream like state. "I thought I saw her today. At the party. There was a girl who looked just like her. I know it couldn't be her but some part of me keeps hoping..."

Without warning Mei latched onto his collar and kissed him. Roughly, and dispassionately.

"She's dead," she said frankly. "She's dead and she's not coming back. Not ever. Stop getting so hung up over a dead girl," she said, genuine anger filling her words.

"She was my friend! What do you want me to do, ignore it? I can't. She's gone, she's gone and no one decided to tell me about it until a few weeks ago!" He shouted at her. He sprung up suddenly. "I had to find out from Azula. Don't either of you care? Weren't you friends too? You both act like it's nothing!"

Mei jumped up as well.

"We've had three years to get used to it! What, did you think we just laughed it off? Sure we weren't best friend or anything but it still hurt! We were just good at not letting it get to us! You though, why are you getting so emotional?" they were both shouting by now.

"Because she was my. Best. Friend. Because I thought she would be here when I got back, because she's been dead for three years and I had no idea. Because I never said good bye to her! Do you know what the last thing we talked about was? Do you? How depressing you always were!" By then he knew that he had gone too far. Mei reached across and hit him, he stood motionless as she slowly lowered her hand. He said nothing in reply, could not think of anything to say in reply, and simply turned on his heel and walked away.

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><p>He lay there, in his bed, thinking back to his meeting with his uncle in the jail cell. If she was here she would talk to him. If she was here she could help him understand. If she was here, He knew, he just <em>knew <em>That she would tell him to do the right thing. What ever the right thing was. So he stood up, walked down the hallway, he kept walking until he reached the gates. And then, when he was out of sight, he ran.

It had been years since he had been to that house, but he remembered how to get there. He took the back roads he and Yoshiko had always used to hide from their parents. The roads they had played on and known so well. If what Azula said was true she couldn't have been more than 12. Twelve year old girls were not supposed to die. not supposed to be killed. Especially not Yoshiko. She was so vibrant, so full of life, so much happier than Azula or Mei or any of the other girls in court. She was able to feel, to be sad, to be angry, to be childish, to be in pain. And when she was she had the amazing ability to shoulder on. To not let it ruin her completely. To not let it tear her apart. She had been a rock for him. Something he was sure wouldn't change . Someone he could always trust in.

He began picturing her death. it wouldn't have been public, he was sure. Her father was Captain of the Sun Guard, the elite swordsman, and was regarded as one of the best in the world. He was a high ranking official, and his father wouldn't risk sparking the idea of rebellion in any of his subjects. Better to do it in the middle of the night. He had heard stories about those kinds of things. The night raids, they were called, when Fire Nation troupes would storm a household, blocking all of the exits, and setting fire to the entire building. They would then enter it and proceeded to slaughter anyone who had not already burned to death. Their strategy was simple, but completely unbeatable.

He could see her, big eyes and long hair in all, running around her home trying to find her way out. He saw her dying in a million different ways, in different rooms, crushed by falling beams, trapped in secluded corners.

The more he imagined it, the more real it seemed. He felt tears pricking the back of his eyes. Not her, ANYONE but her. He shoved the thoughts back down, and rounded a corner, nearly knocking over a group of teenagers. They looked angry until they saw his face, and then dropped to the ground in a prostrate position. He didn't even pause, just kept running. Soon he saw it, her street. Her house was the only one on the street,hers being one of the few noble families to reside outside of the palace close. But it was empty. Empty and quiet. He came to a halt and stared. I should have been there. That great, big house with the bright red roof and the large stone walls. The stone walls were there, that he could see, he was still standing many yards away, and ran up to where the door would have been.

Where there once were walls there were now only rotting beams. The floor remained mostly intact, but that was all. Everything else had been mostly burned to the ground. Time and wind had carried away the soot. He could see the entire estate from where he stood. The garden, the armory, the pond, the trees. He walked through what once was a threshold, and stood, careful not to press to hard into the floor, for fear it would give out under him. He walked through the house. There were some areas that the fire had not damaged, but the natural forces seemed to have taken their toll as well. He came across the bottom corner of a wall, that has once had a beautiful mural remained, but had been so damaged by water that he could barley make out the shapes on the wood. This house had been his as well, this family had been his. and this was all that there was of them.

He walked to the pond. If he ignored the ruined building behind him, nothing had changed. The tree was still their. The stones hadn't moved. The fish still swam. He sat down at the edge, and rested his face in his right hand. He ran his other through the grass, and stopped when it ran over something hard. He looked up and then looked down at his hand. It was a peach pit, like the ones she had used to tease him with. He bent his head and held it tightly in his hand, it hurt, and he was sure it would leave an impression.

"Who's there?" someone asked, disturbing him from his grieving, and he turned around to see a small group of peasants, all much older than him, holding rakes and various other tools. The oldest, a man who must have been his uncles age, widened his eyes, then stopped into a bow. It looked painful for him, he must have had some kind of back problem, Zuko reasoned. "Forgive us, my lord. We did not mean to disturb you." He said, by now the other members of the group had also stopped into low bows.

"Please... Um.. get up," he said, still very uncomfortable with such treatment. "What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to keep a hostile edge out of his voice. Just let me have this place to myself. Just leave this place alone.

"Well, my lord... we come every week, you see," said the elderly man furtively, who already stood back up. "Just to keep it together, in case anyone ever comes back," he added quickly.

"Comes... back?" He asked. He was listening raptly now.

"Well, you see..." The man looked to his companions, and one of the women nervously nodded her head. "They-They say that the-the young mistress is alive. Her body... they didn't find it. A lot of people said she got burnt to dust... but she might have... might have escaped..."

"But... if she came back... wouldn't she be punished?" Zuko asked. He had been wondering that for quite some time now.

"We-we don't know... but... if she does, the least we can do is try to keep some part of it together," he concluded. Zuko looked at him for several second before realizing that he, in fact, seen him before. He had worked for the Lang household as a gardener, and had seen him and Yoshiko playing together many times. This was why, he reason, the old man had risked sharing such information with him.

"You, you're a gardener, aren't you?" Zuko asked.

"Yes, s-sire," the man replied nervously. Zuko opened his palm slowly, and held out he peach pit to show him.

"If.. If I wanted to plant this, what would I do? Would it even grow?" He asked nervously. The old man gave him a knowing look.

"If you give it the care and nurturing it requires then yes, it will grow. You would need a large enough space to plant it, somewhere with a lot of sunlight, where the rain could get to it. The soil needs to be good, as well, but if you have that all taken care of, it could grow easily. Trees like this can be much harder to grow than others. sometimes, no matter how well you tend to them, they wouldn't grow at all," He said wisely.

"I see," Zuko said, nodding, "Thank you for your time, I'll let you get back to work now."

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><p>Later that day, when he returned home, he made sure no one was around, and quickly dug a deep hole in the court yard. Azula and Mei had gone into town, and he knew they would be back for some time, so he felt comfortable taking the risk. In the whole, he dropped the pit, and quickly packed the dirt back in.<p>

Although he did not know it at the time, several years later the pit had become a tree, a tall, strong tree, with her name carved in the base.

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><p>Word count: 3,371.<p>

The part where he goes to her house was originally right after Azula told him that she was dead, but I decided that since I wanted that whole "The young mistress may be alive" revelation, it shouldn't be the second he finds out she's gone. So if any parts of that are awkward I probably over looked it because they didn't seem awkward to me.

There you are my lovelies. Please review! Every time someone does I feel my heart get all warm and fuzzy and stuff.


	4. Chapter 3

Hey guys, I have had a VERY buys few months, and have many more to come. I'll be away for 2 weeks in March, which is right after my Mid-Terms. I'm also leaving the day after my birthday. fun. So I'll have a lot of studying and packing to do. I'm also going out of the country, so I might also have trouble charging my electronics. and a few weeks after that I have Anime Boston to attend. And then dance things.

I've decided to make this story a lot longer then I originally thought I would. So PLEASE bare with me. I added the interlude to make this brief time skip less awkward.

Anyway. Here you go, the next chapter. Enjoy. By the way, feed back is LOVELY and very much appreciated.

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><p>We didn't know for sure, but we guessed. Why else would a water Nation boy willingly come to the Fire Nation? It was a death wish. Unless you had a purpose, unless you had a damn good reason, unless you were at least SLIGHTLY safe. I thought it was only me who suspected, until The Master broached the subject as we were drinking tea in the main hall.<p>

"I assume you've guessed too?" he said. Although it was more of a statement than a question. I knew what he was talking about, because there wasn't much else he could mean.

"Yes," I replied. "He's not stupid. The way he and his mind work is different. But he isn't stupid," I continued.

"Exactly. Much like yourself, his fighting style is unique, all his own, although yours is much more suited to combat," He said it like it was a good thing, but I still felt ashamed of it. combat. So violent. Was that me? Violent? 'The way you fight defines you. It reflects your center.' something he had said many times before. Something my father had often said as well. So maybe that was me. Violent. Vindictive. It was then that he stood, walking out the wide doors to the patio, where I soon joined him, "I know you don't need me to say this, as you've probably figured out on your own, but he's alive. He has something he must do, and I don't doubt he will do it. He has too much of a will to die,"

"Yes, I'm sure he does... Do you think he can do it, though? We're talking about a mam who can slaughter thousands with a wave of his hand. He needs help, doesn't he?" I hoped he wouldn't see the under lying hope in my words. But I was hoping in vain. He knew me too well.

"Undoubtedly," He shot my a quick sideways glance, "but they are no doubt cautious of who they accept from. One would need to gain their trust before one could even hope to accompany them," he stated.

"Of course. How do you think one could do that?" He knew what I was trying to say.

"I think they would need to have a good reason for wanting to accompany them," he replied.

"Maybe that person, who ever they are, wanted to help. Wanted to be able to do something. Wanted to stop hiding... Would that be good enough?" I asked. I looked at the ground, to scared to face the possible reaction.

"I believe so. Who ever they are must be very brave. And very strong," he said. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I hated crying. I was done crying. I would not cry in front of him. But I was strong enough to do this. I turned around quickly and wrapped my arms around him, something I had not done since I had first come. Since he had first welcomed me into his home, and taken on the role as guardian. His approval, though given indirectly, was necessary in order to do what I wanted,_ needed_, to do.

"You will always be welcomed here. You will always be treasured here. But you are right. It's time you left this place, left the safety of these walls. You are ready," He said gently. He spoke with a tone I hadn't heard since in years.

It was like I was the same scared little girl who first arrived at his door step, freezing, broken, burnt, and weak. With cuts in my feet from the week long trek I had taken in order to reach his home. Sleeping only when I needed to. My aunt had given me enough food to last me, and sent me away quickly in the dead of night, looking around worriedly for any sign of the soldiers. She did love me, but she knew I couldn't stay. They may have thought me dead, but they were sure to come to her next. To see how much she knew. To ensure she hadn't been involved. She hadn't been, but when she told them that they wouldn't listen to her. I found out, a year later, that they burnt her house down too, and she had perished. My training had begun by then, and that was the one last push I needed to train seriously. I practiced my way though the pain, so every night I would collapse onto my bed, heavy from exhaustion, avoiding any opportunity to think.

"What am I supposed to do now," I asked quietly.

"I suggest you tell them what you've told me," he replied. "I'm guessing that his companions will be with him tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the ultimate test, I have a feeling he WILL tell us who he is. Watching him work this hard gives me faith that he won't keep lying to us. When he does... just let things play out. After they do, ask them. Don't hesitate, resolve yourself to do it. That will make it easier. Don't plan what you say. It has to come to you from the heart. Just say what needs to be said," He had taken on his regular tone again, and I had already let go. "I have taught you all that I can. Your skills, I can say to you with out doubt, have become level, and may have exceeded, mine, and your fathers. He would be impressed with how far you have come in such a short time. Then again, you've always had a natural affinity towards sword wielding. Go to bed now, Yoshiko, tomorrow will be a long day," he concluded.

With that, he walked inside. I moved to follow him, but then stood still. I let the weight our conversation make its way to my head, if they said yes... if they said yes I would be leaving this place. I turned and headed for the stairs, and begun to walk around. I then remembered another important thing. The biggest reason they would need me was so they would have someone Fire Nation born on their side. They couldn't afford to slip up like they had the day before, with using their given names. Someone who knew the land like the back of their hand would surely come in useful. Someone who knew the way the Fire Nation army worked better than anyone else on the outside. they NEEDED me.

I headed over to the work shop, where I knew Sokka was slaving away at his task. I entered through the back quietly, and removed all of my swords from the wall, each of them served a special purpose, was made to deal with a certain kind of fighting. I grabbed my weapons case, a fine durable leather one that buckled in several places and could be strung across the back, off of a nearby table, opened it, and proceeded to place all of my weapons in carefully. When they were all in safe positions, sheathes on and locked safely in place, I wrapped a thinner layer of leather around the swords, and carefully slid them into the bag itself. I had been making as little noise as possible, but of course the sounds of metal against metal weren't exactly quiet, Sokka had yet to look up from his work though, and continued to pound away at the sword he was forging. Mine were all smaller than his, because of my shortness, which made carrying all of them in the case much easier. The Master had made me grow accustomed to carrying them for long periods of time, he would have me run with them for half an hour each day, until it became natural.

I looked around the shop once more, I might not see it for quite some time. Perhaps ever, I silently admitted. They were going to go face to face with the Fire Lord, if I was allowed to accompany them, there was a chance I won't survive it. But no, I had to do it. I had to at least try.

It was then that Sokka looked up briefly, a confused expression on his face, "Hey... are you okay?" He asked. My worry and doubt must have leaked through some how, but I brushed his question off with a smile.

"Oh I'm fine, just feeling reminiscent is all," I give him a small smile, before grabbing my case, and hurrying out as calmly as possible.

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><p>I entered my room again. Grabbing another bag, I opened my wardrobe, which consisted of not much besides the standard training dresses I wore. Wearing those out in public though would give me away in moments, so I grabbed one, and proceeded to sort through my casual clothing. I went for functional on the most part, but allowed myself to take two "luxurious" garments. Well, by my standards they were, by the standards of anyone else, they would only be slightly dressy. A loose dark red skirt that ended a few inches above my knees, a tight fitting sleeveless shirt, with intricate metal designs wrapping around it, and several bracelets.<p>

I paused for a moment, and looked down at my exposed left shoulder. I could see my tattoo exposed there, The head of a dragon crawling over my shoulder and stopping just short of my heart. Its wings fanned out slightly across my shoulder blade and spine, and its tail curled around the midsection of my back, and then under my armpit. I had another tattoo, but I was careful to keep it hidden. On my tailbone, I had gotten a lotus flower inked into my skin. It was nearly all in black, besides the petals, lining the black, where a light pink had been etched, and bordering the black vine like lines was a green, nearly as dark as the black its self.

I had wrestles with the idea for some time. But eventually made up my mind. The dragon did not raise any suspicion, to be sure, as I tried to pass it off as honoring the dragon slayers, many people had such tattoos, but it was my silent way of rebelling, of honoring those the Fire Lords had harmed. The lotus I debated over. should the wrong person see it, they might realize who I was. It had been my families crest for generations, and I didn't want to risk anyone finding out that I _hadn't_, in fact, died in the fire. Luckily, all of my clothing kept it hidden. The dragon was hard to hide, but it would not raise suspicion.

I went back to my packing. The other shirt I decided to bring did display my tattoo as well, it had two thin straps, and two more sleeves that hung low on my upper arms, I added to the ensemble a loose fitting pair of pants, which clung tightly to my waist, and then again at my mid calf.

There was only one thing left. The sword. The sword and the necklace.

The Master had taught me not too long ago just what that necklace symbolized, and every since I did not risk bringing it out of my room.

I closed my bag, and set it on the floor next to my bed. The Master was right, no matter the out come, it would be a long day. I was asleep even before my head hit the pillow

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><p>word count: 2,227<p>

HEY GUYS, CHECK IT OUT, YOSHIKO HAS A TRAMP STAMP. JACK HARKNESS WOULD BE PROUD OF YOU, YOU LITTLE SLUT. But no, really. please please PLEASE tell me what you guys think. as nice as it is to get emails saying (insert username here) is now following 'Children of Greatness' i just REALLY want to make this story as good as I can. I've already decided to make it longer than I originally intended, so please don't fear writers block, the ideas are flowing. The fancy things she packed actually serve a purpose. that wasn't just random filler. also, now you know enough of what happened to her after she left that it should hopefully make a lot more sense.

I realize that my chapters have all been pretty short, but once it picks up more that will change.


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